The Most Important Thing
by xSakuraBlossom
Summary: Another regular loses his memory. WARNING: Yaoi/shounen-ai. Pairing: MomoxRyo
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own PoT. However, this fanfiction is completely my responsibility (in other words, my fault)

Part 1

…Momo…Momo-sempai…Momoshiro…

Momo…

"Thank goodness, he's alive!" "Hey, can you hear me?" "Someone, call an ambulance!"

…Are they talking to me? Are they talking about me?

…Momo…

"He's not responding!" "Is he unconscious?" "No, don't think so. Look, he's muttering something."

…Momoshiro…

"Did someone catch the license plate?"

…hurts…help me…Momo-sempai…

"We're losing him! Where's the goddamn ambulance?" "KID! HEY KID! STAY WITH US!" "Wake up!" "You can't sleep, not now!" "Is that a siren? Thank god…" "Is it too late?"

…Momo…

***

He couldn't open his eyes. They just wouldn't open. He tried to lift one arm to rub his eyes, but his limbs wouldn't cooperate. He attempted to speak, to call for help, but he couldn't make his lips move the way he wanted them to. What came out was so quiet his own ears could barely hear it.

"…Momo…"

What the heck was Momo? What was he saying? Why couldn't he tell people what he needed?

"Good, he's awake." "Do you think he'll be ok now?" "Well, he's mainly ok. No internal ruptures, just broken bones and his head." "Yeah… but that head injury…" "He has a bad concussion, and there's bleeding in the cranium that could cause amnesia. How extensive, we can't say now." "We'll just have to wait and see, observe him for a while. Hopefully he'll be fine…" "Oh, were they able to contact anyone?" "No, the witnesses said the driver stole his bag. The kid has no ID, no phone, nothing except the clothes on his back." "Crap, that's gonna be troublesome." "Did they at least get the license plate?" "Yeah, but it was a stolen car." "Better and better, huh?"

Someone… somebody… help him…

He felt himself fading into the darkness once again.

***

"Hey, can you hear me?" He faintly registered a kind voice asking the question. He had to answer somehow. Nodding was beyond him, he couldn't make a sound at all today; the only thing he could do was twitch his fingers, so he did that. "Did you see that? There was a response." Now what? What was going on… "Ok, we're going to ask you some questions now. Twitch once for no, twice for yes. Can you understand me?" Twitch, twitch. This was hard, actually. Had he always had such difficulty moving? "Ok. Good. Now, do you know your name?" Name? His name… his name… Twitch. "Are you saying you don't know your name?" Twitch twitch. "Jesus. Jesus Christ. He doesn't know his name. This must be a bad one." "Ok, can you tell me what country you're in?" …Twitch. "Shit. He forgot everything." "All right, last question. Do you remember anything that happened?" Pain. Does pain count? Twitch twitch. "Ok, at least he remembers a little of the accident. We'll ask him more when he can move a bit better." Footsteps into the distance. He slept.

***

He could sit up now, even be fed a little food. He had the slightest impression that being fed was shameful, but he couldn't think why. He lay in his bed, surrounded by white sheets, white pillows, white walls. Had the world lost colour?

No, no it hadn't. Some people walked in with black hair- but still wearing white robes. Evidently it was just common to use white. Why white? It made no sense.

"Ok, he's sitting up. Can he talk?"

"I'm right here, you know."

Silence from the people dressed in white. Who were they? Did they know him? Why would they help him otherwise?

"So, you can talk. Do you mind if we ask a few questions?"

"No, go ahead. At least it means you know I'm here."

One of them, with longer black hair and a curvy body, nodded and said, "Ok, he can still talk, so he didn't forget that. He also has a clever tongue."

His tongue wasn't clever, was it? Could it really move on its own? He stuck it out to test that theory.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm seeing if my tongue is clever."

"And how are you doing that?"

"I'm seeing if it moves on its own."

Laughter. "He may be able to talk, but he seems to have forgotten what idioms and colloquial language are."

… What was an idiom? And what the heck was colloquial language?

"Ok, so… do you know your name?"

Questions. "I don't think so. I'm not sure."

"What do you mean you're not sure?"

"I… I don't know…"

"Ok, we'll leave that aside for now. Do you know what country you're in?"

"No."

"Hmm… Ok, do you remember anything from the accident?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"Pain."

"Ok. Anything about what happened?"

"No. Just pain."

"Ok. Man, you don't say much, do you?"

"No."

A sigh. "Ok, last question for today. Is there anything you remember, anything at all?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"…"

"Well, what is it?"

"… I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what it means, or if it means anything."

"Well, can you tell us what it is?"

"… Momo."

"Momo?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm… sounds to me like a nickname."

"Maybe."

"Or a name of a stuffed animal or something."

"Maybe."

"Is this what you meant when you said you didn't know if you knew your own name?"

"Yeah."

"Well, the most important thing in your life is usually the thing that leaves the strongest memory. Because one's name is almost always the most familiar, it tends to be the only thing remembered in extreme cases. So, for now, we'll call you Momo, alright?"

"…Kay."

They left.

***

Momo… he liked that name. But somehow, it didn't seem right. Like it wasn't his name. But they said a person's name is the most important thing, right? If it's remembered first, wouldn't it have to be important? This was confusing. Who exactly was he? Did it really matter? What was a name worth anyways? It was just something that people called you, right? Right?

Momo… he fell asleep with that name on his lips.

***

"Momo! Get up! It's time for some exercise!"

It had been a long time already. He was getting used to being called Momo now. Maybe it really was his name. Maybe just being disoriented had accounted for the strangeness of it at first. Or maybe just being called that name over and over slowly made it his. If they suddenly started calling him Jeff, would he come to accept that name as well? It made him wonder, gave him something to think about as he traveled up and down the stairs. The hospital- they'd told him that was where he was- had big windows, so he could see outside. Some people were out there. They were doing something on some green rectangles. The rectangles were split in half by a barrier- a net? And there were some white lines, forming a T, on the green rectangles, on each side of the barrier. It looked funny. Who would make such a thing?

Weird… some people were standing near the ends of the rectangle. He could see them holding something. It looked like a round net on a stick, except the stick had a fork in it, and it attached to the round net that way. It looked almost funnier than the rectangles. Momo let out a laugh as he limped up and down the stairs. What could they do with such a strange contraption? Then he saw one of them toss a tiny yellow speck up. Momo thought, "Is that a ball?" It was so small. How could they possibly hit it? But the person that threw the ball up swung with the net on a stick, and managed to hit the ball. Incredible. They must have great hand-eye coordination to do that. The yellow speck landed on the other side of the barrier and bounced. Now what would the other person do?

...They swung at the ball and hit it back. Momo found that really funny. What, were they just going to hit the ball back and forth? What a boring game. But he found himself drawn to it anyways. It reminded him of something…

"Momo! What are you doing? You're supposed to be exercising!" Momo winced. He didn't like this nurse. She was always really strict, and she didn't let him get anything from the drink machines. "Sorry." Momo began to walk up and down the stairs again. He wondered why he had said sorry. It wasn't like he'd done anything wrong to the nurse, right?

Life was really confusing sometimes.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do own PoT. Really. I'm not lying. I'm not in front of the computer wishing I was... damn my imagination.

Part 2

Momo was bored. Really bored. Lying in bed was boring. Exercise was boring. Eating was boring. The people were boring. The hospital was boring. He wanted to get out. He wanted to do something other than stay here, day after day, doing nothing. There was something he had to do… wait, where did that come from? Well, no matter. In any case, he had to get out. He had to leave.

It was nighttime now. Normally people weren't awake at this time. But he wasn't normal, considering he'd lost his memory and all. A smile played around his lips as he slid out of his bed and out of the room. He'd escape tonight. He'd had enough of this hospital anyways. He was fully healed after the accident anyways. They told him a car had hit him, and he'd had several broken bones, as well as a concussion. There had also been bleeding in the skull, which explained his memory loss. But he was healed now, except for his memory. Who cared if he didn't know his name? He knew he was in Japan now, knew he was in Tokyo. What more did he need to know? Momo slipped by the night nurses- he was pretty small, so nobody noticed- and walked through the front door. Freedom at last.

He was still in the hospital gown, but he didn't feel cold at all. Summer in Tokyo tended to have that effect. Tokyo… he liked this place. It was familiar somehow, even if he didn't recognize any of the sites. Momo scanned the streets, looking for something. What was he looking for? He himself didn't know.

Momo blinked at the billboards above his head. Funny… the picture on one of them looked a lot like him. But the name under it said "Echizen Ryoma". Funny name, but it sounded kind of familiar. Momo looked closer. The message on the billboard said, "The Child Prodigy- Cheer on our Japanese Tennis Hero in America" Momo snorted. So this Echizen Ryoma was good at some kind of game or something? And he was in America, getting better? Get a life, buddy. Shaking his head, Momo went on his way.

Momo had climbed up a set of stairs. He hated stairs, really hated them. They reminded him of the hospital exercise… wait, where was this? Momo stared at the place. The place was well lit, with a lot of people standing around. Were they all waiting to play on that rectangle? It looked like those rectangles outside the hospital. How many of these things were there? He sat in the bleachers to watch. This place was really familiar, as though a lot of things had happened here. But what? It made his head hurt when he tried to think about it, so he didn't.

These people were playing a different version of the game they had played at the hospital. Here, there were 4 people on the rectangle instead of two. Other than that, it seemed to be the same- and yet it was wildly different. The level was far above the level played by the old people at the hospital. Momo found himself staring in shock at the shots being made. That person had a pretty good serve, he mused… then shook himself. What was a serve? How did he know that term? Disconcerted, he continued to watch the game, noting that despite the higher level, they couldn't compete with him. Wait, what?

Backhand, forehand, volley, dropshot… terms floated to him out of nowhere. He could name every shot these people were doing! Shocked, he stared intently at the game. Poach, smash, lob, flat shot… Momo closed his eyes. It hurt his head even more to think about tennis. Tennis? Where had that come from? Wasn't that the thing on the billboard? Was that the name of this game? Intrigued again, he opened his eyes. One of them had missed an easy volley. Momo snorted. He wouldn't have missed such an easy shot.

"Mada mada dane."

The words had slid out of his mouth without thinking. He didn't even know where they came from. But he knew their meaning- You still have a long way to go. The court activity instantly stopped as the famous- or infamous- phrase rang throughout the place. All eyes turned to stare at him. Momo grew uncomfortable under their gaze. Why were they staring? But then he realized they were muttering something.

"Echizen…" "Echizen?" "That super rookie is here…" "Echizen Ryoma, you mean?" "Isn't he still in America?" "Echizen?" "What the hell, he's wearing some hospital clothes."

Why were they talking about Echizen Ryoma? He was Momo. Who was Echizen Ryoma? Why did they look so similar? Why did these people all know Echizen?

"Oy, Echizen, come down and play?"

Momo looked around. There was nobody else in the stands. He looked back at the person who had called out and asked, "Me?"

Chuckles from the people on the court. "Hah, he's not so brave after all, is he?" "What child prodigy, he's nothing." "Looks like he escaped from some mental institute." Somebody hissed, "Come on, he's just a kid." Momo was confused. Were they talking about him?

But the person that called out stayed quiet amidst the mutters. Finally, he said, "Echizen. I want a rematch. You against me this time. Not doubles." Momo snorted. "I could take both of you on alone. You can't beat me in a singles match." What was he saying? "In any case, you got the wrong person. I'm not Echizen Ryoma." There were murmurs of surprise. Some people still laughed at him. "He's trying to duck out." "Such a coward." But the one that had challenged him still stayed cool. "Ok then, what's your name?" Momo shrugged. "I don't give my name out to random strangers. Beat me first, then I'll tell you my name." The guy smiled. "I like that attitude of yours. I'll break you."

"1 game match. Fukawa to serve." Momo thought for a moment that that name sounded familiar. The guy even looked a little familiar, with longish black hair and 2 strands that fell over his face. Could he really have played him before? Well, rematch or not, this guy was a fool to play him in a singles match. But if that was what he wanted, who was Momo to refuse? But then, Fukawa served, and Momo's mind went blank. What was he supposed to do?

"15-love."

Shit, he totally let that one go. He'd frozen up. What was he supposed to do now?

"Baka. You're supposed to go to the other side. Geez, first you don't have a racquet, then you totally miss the return, and then you don't even know you're supposed to switch sides every point. Do you even know how to play tennis?" Momo flushed with embarrassment, but he went to the other side.

"Oy, Fukawa, go easy on the kid. He probably isn't the super rookie after all."

Momo ignored them. He watched carefully as Fukawa served again.

He swung. Why did he swing? Oh, right. He was supposed to return the ball.

"30-love."

Damn, he missed. But he'd felt something familiar. Really familiar.

Fukawa served.

He swung.

"30-15."

Yes, he'd gotten a point. Finally.

Fukawa glared at him. "You were holding back, weren't you?"

Huh?

"You're not using your left hand."

Momo looked down. He was left-handed?

"Play seriously now!" This was yelled as Fukawa threw the ball into the air.

Momo swung.

Fukawa reached the return. Damn.

Before he knew it, Momo was racing towards the net. Why was he doing that?

Fukawa was about to hit the ball right at him…

"What the hell?" Murmurs from the audience.

Momo had begun to slide under the ball. Then, with explosive power, he leapt up.

He swung.

"30-all."

"What the hell was that move? It bounced like a B."

"Yeah, did you see him slide?"

Momo didn't even know how he did it. But amidst the shocked mutters, he smiled arrogantly.

"Drive B." he said cockily.

He pointed his racquet- when had it appeared in his left hand? - and said, "Mada mada dane."

He won the match.

***


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See last 2 chapters... ok, maybe just the first one.

Part 3

Something strange had happened on that court. Something really strange. He'd felt comfortable on the court, whereas he hadn't felt comfortable anywhere else yet. The feel of the racquet in his hand had soothed him. Had he played tennis before then? Probably.

But those people had insisted on calling him Echizen Ryoma. Who was Echizen Ryoma? Momo had a feeling he had to find this Echizen Ryoma and talk with him. Maybe that would help him get his memories back. And he had to do it soon. Because now Momo had a feeling of urgency; there wasn't a lot of time left. There was something really important that he needed to remember. Really important. God, what was it? He needed to remember…

But first, he had to get some food.

He found himself in front of a sushi shop. This place looked familiar too, as if a lot had happened here too. But for the life of him, Momo couldn't remember what. Oh, well. They had food. Maybe he could ask to work it off by doing dishes or something.

"Hello! Welcome to Kawamura Sushi. We're actually closed now, we close at 9:00 each night, and it's ten now, and- Oh my God. Echizen???" This guy, with a kind voice and kind eyes, stared in shock down at Momo. Geez, another person who called him Echizen? How was it that everyone knew that guy? "Actually, my name's Momo. Can I ask whom you are?"

Kawamura Takashi reeled in shock. What was Echizen doing here? And why was he calling himself Momo? And… why didn't he recognize his sempai? What was going on? Well, first things first. "Ok, Momo *choke*, why don't you come in first. I'll get you some food."

"No wasabi sushi, please." Where had that come from?

Kawamura sighed with relief. At least Echizen remembered that much. "Of course not. Those are only for Fuji."

"Who's Fuji? Sounds like some kind of apple."

Kawamura's eyes flared. He couldn't imagine anyone forgetting Fuji. Echizen had definitely lost his memory. "Um… well… Ok, so what happened to you, Momo? I'm guessing you lost your memory."

Momo blinked, surprised. "How did you know?"

Kawamura sighed. "Look, I know you, ok? And your real name is Echizen Ryoma. But the fact that you're calling yourself Momo… I guess that says a lot about whom you care for. In any case, what happened? You can tell me while I make you some sushi."

The car accident. The hospital. The escape from the hospital. The tennis match. Everything Momo- Ryoma? - remembered was said. And Kawamura nodded as he molded rice and cut fish, laying them out neatly in front of Momo- he couldn't help but think of himself as Momo, even if his real name was Echizen Ryoma.

He was suddenly struck with a thought. "Wait, if I'm Echizen Ryoma…" Kawamura nodded. "Then… Why am I here? Shouldn't I be in America?"

Kawamura stared at Echizen, disbelieving. He began to laugh. "Why… are you…" He doubled over, laughing his head off. Momo failed to see the humor.

Kawamura, wiping away his tears of laughter, asked, "You're asking me? You never tell anybody your plans. Nobody here knew you were coming. That's probably why nobody was looking for you." Momo nodded, then asked, "Do I have a family?" From what the hospital people had told him about families, he had probably told them he was coming- right?

The smile on Kawamura's face disappeared instantly. This was rather uncomfortable for Kawamura. Telling Echizen about himself was really disconcerting. "Yeah. But you were always independent, never told anyone anything, even your family. Come on, I'll take you home."

Munching on some sushi they'd taken with them, the two arrived at a temple.

"What, is my dad a monk or something?" Kawamura nearly choked on a piece of fish. Echizen Nanjiroh, a monk? "No, he's just taking care of the place for now." Momo nodded. "Ok then."

Kawamura knocked on the door. There was a loud miaow from behind the door, and a gruff voice, "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. Geez, who comes this late at night?" The door opened to reveal a man wearing black robes, scratching his head.

"Oh, Kawamura-san, how nice to see you. Is that sushi?" Kawamura closed his eyes and begged for patience. How could this father see sushi before his own son? What a good parent he was… NOT. Kawamura said firmly, "It's not for you. It's for Ryoma-kun." "Ryoma? Have you seen him then? Wait- it can't be-" Real shock registered on the man's face, and for possibly the first time, his façade of non-caring melted away, and there was a look of shock and relief- and then Momo couldn't see the face anymore, as he was pulled against his… father?… and he heard a voice saying, "You're back…" At his feet, a familiar mriaow came. Karupin. How had he known that name? Well, whatever. Momo was assaulted by feelings that he'd never felt… or maybe he had, and he'd just forgotten them. But this feeling of relief, of warmth, or comfort, of belonging… he was definitely home.

But still, something was wrong. He turned- still in his father's embrace- and he faced Kawamura. "Kawamura-sempai, could you call the other regulars?" Who were the regulars? The term had, once again, slid from his mouth without thinking. "Especially…" especially who? Who was it that he so desperately needed to see? But evidently Kawamura got it. He nodded curtly, and waved goodbye to the Echizen family, jogging home to start phoning.

Ryoma- that was his name, right? – turned to his father again. His family knew he was here now. They didn't have to know what had happened. If he had to, he could tell them later. But, for now… he had something else to do that night. He glanced at his watch. Shit. 11:30. Could he make it? He said frantically, "Dad, I have to go. There's something really important that I have to do tonight. I'll tell you everything when I get back- at least, everything I know. But right now… there's no time left. I really need to go." Looking confused, Echizen Nanjiroh opened his mouth. Ryoma had just returned, and now he was rushing off again? But then he saw the desperation in his son's eyes. There was nothing else he could do. He let his son go. And watched as he fled into the night.

"Shit… shit… shit…" Ryoma fled through the streets, without any clear direction. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't know what he would find. All he knew was that there was no time left, and this was the right way to be going. What was is that he was going to run out of time for? Who or what was he trying to find? He had no idea. None whatsoever.

A bicycle up ahead. Who… wait. He knew that figure. He knew it. And something deep inside him clicked, and everything fell into place.

"ECHIZEEENNNN!!!"

"MOMO!!!!"

Ryoma flung himself at the figure on the bike, trusting that Momo would never let him fall.

They lay on the asphalt, raining kisses upon each other. Momo was touching him everywhere, as if burning the contours of his body into his mind. Ryoma kissed every part of Momo's face, imprinting it on his memory forever so he wouldn't forget again. Never. Never again.

Ryoma knew who he was now. He also know who Momo was. And… he remembered the important thing. The thing that he had flown back to Japan for. The thing that he needed to do, today.

"Happy birthday, Momo."

Momo stared at Ryoma in shock, then stared at the watch on his hand. 11:59 PM, July 23rd. The little… he'd just barely made it. Kawamura had told them everything he knew about the situation. Ezhizen had gone through so much, and yet he still remembered such an insignificant thing… Momo held Ryoma close to his chest and began to cry. "Echizen… don't ever do that to me again. You made me so worried…" The two of them embraced on the asphalt as in the distance, a clock sounded midnight, and the sound of runners pounding the pavement became audible. As Ryoma kissed Momo once again, 7 people came into view- and Ryoma could name each and every one of them.

Tezuka, Fuji, Oishi, Eiji, Kaidoh, Inui, Kawamura… they'd all come. And the one that lay beneath him, still holding him tightly… Momoshiro.

"Well, the most important thing in your life is usually the thing that leaves the strongest memory." The doctor's words floated back to Ryoma.

Ryoma knew what the most important thing in his life was now. And he was never going to let him go.


End file.
